


A Family, huh?

by sanity_shallow



Series: Family [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: :D, Almost Stockholm Syndrome, Angst and Tragedy, Attempted Escape, Blood, Blood and Injury, Dark, Emotional Manipulation, Forced Bonding, Forced Cohabitation, Forced Relationship, George is still strong, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Injury, Kidnapping, Kinda, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, One Big Happy Family, POV GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28477071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanity_shallow/pseuds/sanity_shallow
Summary: George can't believe that Dream wants a normal family.Now he has to save himself and a child.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: Family [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082303
Comments: 96
Kudos: 517





	1. A kid

**Author's Note:**

> This is in no way a representation of anyone in this fic. If they state they don't want to be written in this sort of manner or written at all, I'll delete this fic.  
> There are a lot of warnings here, so please look at the tags.  
> You've been warned

As soon as George awoke, warmth engulfed his entire body. Moving the blanket thrown on him, the breeze cooled off his sweat. Breathing just made him entranced to go back to sleep. The brunette could only see a blurry haze when he blinked. He would have fallen back unconscious when the light image of the place brightened.

The light hit the room all too perfectly. Shadows we're dim and the soft hue of wood popped out. A sweet morning paired with nature's melody. Something George could actually call peace.

Too bad this meant something terrible.

  
Dream wasn't anywhere in their room. Against his will, he dragged himself out of bed. Usually, the blonde wouldn't leave the brunette out of his sights. The corridor was empty. The living room, the kitchen, no sound and another person in sight. When it came to the doors— locked, bolts and all intact with nothing that can unlock it. As if Dream could forget.

George snapped, seeing the door handle jiggle. He scampered, trying his best to be quiet, back to their room then try to look as if he's just gotten up. God damn it, he's here already?

" _George?_ I can hear you over there!" His voice was still as sickeningly sweet as yesterday's, though something tells him it's even more unbearable. It was too sweet and mellow like it's hiding his tone. "Are you awake now?"

"Yeah- I am."

"Why don't you come over here?" It didn't sound like a question.

George poked his head out of the room. There was Dream with that horrible smiley mask and structure draped in his cloak. Even dared to open his arms, expecting a warm welcome home.

"I miss you, _George_." 

He could practically feel the demand etched in his voice, and he couldn't disobey.

George tackled the blonde with a quick tight hug, hoping to cause some harm, but Dream never did intend to release him so soon. The taller blonde only hugged tighter, keeping him in place, face dug deep into his chest barely able to breathe. 

"Tubbo, this is George!" 

The brunette then stopped struggling. Is Dream delusional now? His voice is sincerely sweet and for once wasn't all directed to him. George tried to get out of his grip, to see what or who he's talking to, but that seemed impossible. He hissed, biting his lip when the blonde caressed his right arm, pressing down like a threat. The other still had more to say and by the way his hug grew tighter, George has to shut up and listen.

"He's your cousin I've said about." Finally, Dream let go of the brunette who glared down at his chest. 

Now with full sight, George's voice dropped. A small child was clinging on the taller blonde's cloak. Large sky eyes almost teary and utterly confused with such pale features and draped with bright golden locks. The brunette had to blink for a moment– Stare back at Dream, the child, Dream and the child.

"Hello-" The child mumbled. His voice compared to his; the same accent only with a higher note.

"I bet George just can't believe you're here now, Tubbo!" Dream knelt, cupping this child's cheeks in such a fond and gentle way. "I'll leave you both for a while. I need to get some meat for dinner." For a moment, he saw composure blanket on the blonde's usual tense shoulders. 

That composure just disappeared as soon as it came through.

"Take care of _your cousin_ for a while. _Okay_ , George?" The blonde's eyes glared at his own, digging a threat into his head. Voice upbeat, not matching that look in his face. A talent proven to be useful to hide from the child that beamed ever so excited to be here. "We don't want Tubbo here to be uncomfortable."

"Right– _Of course!_ "

He tried to hide the forced tone in his voice for the first time he's been here. George never got punished for the sarcastic tone and the way he spoke when he did what he was told. However, this child's presence made it clear to the brunette the rules are now stricter. He can't afford another punishment right now. Not when he can't take the pain in his arm.

"Tubbo, am I right?" 

Said child nodded at the mention of his name, though eyes travelled all around their house. He hasn't even stepped away from the centre of the living room yet. Keeping his arms near his chest, shoulders tensed and not keeping eye contact. Even if he had no cousin, the child's expression of pained displacement fueled some kind of protective aura. The kid doesn't deserve this. Whatever this is anyways.

George sat by the couch, urging the child to come wherever. Tubbo resultantly clung to the edge of the seat, supporting his weight and refused to sit. He knew he wouldn't get anything out of the younger blonde later on. If anything, he needs to know why there's suddenly a child in their home. "Is everything alright, hun?"

"I don't know what happened to mom-" There weren't tears or reluctance in his tone; there wasn't any spite or hate, only fell dull. "Dream said s-she left me– just disappeared."

"She was having a hard time–" 

"You look like her." The child gripped the fabric for support. "Would you disappear too?"

"Of course not!" Maybe that's why he is this paranoid. Maybe Tubbo is scared of being alone. He didn't seem to care about his mom in general, just the fact of having company. Well, he's also in a new environment! Dream must have taken him from his home and fed him lies. "Did your mom ever hurt you? I don't know a lot about what happened to you."

"Mom was good, " Tubbo still didn't try and gain eye contact "But she wasn't always home."

"Don't worry, Tubbo. You won't be alone anymore."

The child's lip curled, still confused as he was conflicted. Hands clung around the fabric of the couch. He still didn't look open enough to talk more than that. Whatever happened in his home or wherever he was picked up must have taken a toll on the child. A part of the brunette's mind argued it wasn't that serious, seeing that he was just left alone with no abuse. Still, this just made George swear he wouldn't let anything else harm him. This child is too susceptible to his own emotions that caused its own trauma. Tubbo even looked too young to be able to speak! He's too young to be tortured by his thoughts. Too young to be wrapped up here.

"Promise?" 

There was that look once again. Large eyes now decided to stare onto him in such a begging manner. Mouth agape like he spoke for a while and try to take it back.

"I'll try- I'd never leave you alone. I promise."

A soft smile appeared on his face, now engraved in George's head.

George now knew why that bastard had picked this kid up. It was clear as day now that he's gotten a closer look. The dusty dark blonde hair, a perfect mixture of gold and copper. Eyes shone like jewels, comparing to Dream's. Skinny and pale figure comparing to him, not to mention the uncanny accent.

 _Dream's_ trying to have _a family._

A family _with him_.

The damn bastard's totally delusional.


	2. Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream's being an asshol-  
> Also George doesn't like the taste of potions

Every day. It's been every fucking day. About three days already to be precise. And George doesn't know if he could take it anymore. Of course Dream knew about the troubles taking a kid with him. The secrets they both have to keep. _The both of them;_ as if George was part of the little plan. Oh, wait. He _is._

Dream tightened the hold on George's neck. Thumb pressing down just below his collarbone where it showed red turning purple. The smaller didn't dare to move or utter, threatened by how slow the asshole would take if he'd break one of his ribs again.

"Repeat."

George didn't want to.

"I-I'm just sickly. I don't like going outside." The brunette coughed, tearing Dream's coat. He's pressed too near. Did George ever mentioned how breathing near the bastard just stirs bile up his throat. "Dream– I _promised_ I wouldn't reveal anything to Tubbo– I- He's just a child."

His hold didn't waver as he quirked a brow. George's breath hitched as Dream pinched sharply. 

"O-our child."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Dream eased up his hold and a sweeter aura came over the blond. He slowly trailed his hand up to George's face. The smaller shivered, trying not to spit or snap at him from disgust. His chest was too tense, his lungs refused to breathe without it burning. It hurt so bad, he had to forcibly suck in air, that could be mistaken for being flustered.

"That's better." The blonde purred, pulling the smaller near his face with another arm locked by his waist. "You'll love the kid. He's almost like you when you were younger." He chuckled. "Looks like both of us, don't you think?"

George bit his lip, trying to pull back on what was going to happen. Even if it was inevitable, he'd try every first option to resist. He's glad Dream was merciful to these small acts of rebellion.

"Good morning." To his fortune, Tubbo stood by the doorway, eyes still droopy from the sun that shined through the room.

George didn't waste this small opening to escape the other's grasp to ruffle up the child's already messy bed head. "Good morning, Tubbs." He led him out to the kitchen leaving Dream alone in the room. He guesses the child is both a liability to them– maybe mostly Dream. "I'll go make breakfast after we get you cleaned up, okay?"

The child followed close by, now tugging on George's pants, like a small puppy. Another fortunate thing is that Tubbo didn't know his way around the house, mostly needing one of them to guide him. It would either leave him or Dream alone.

~

"GEORGE!" The child came running up to the other's leg, practically yanking him back and forth with the brightest eyes he's ever seen from the week he has spent. "Dream is taking me to get some flowers!"

"Well-"

"Yeah, we'd be going early so we'd be home for lunch, sweetie." He almost shrieked from the sudden voice. George dropped his whisk, seeing as Dream was all propped up to go. Even Tubbo had a smaller version of his green cloak. He didn't even notice how fast they've already changed since this morning. "Tubbo, why don't you go get your shoes? I just need to go get my mask."

The child let go of George, eager to help the other out. "I think your mask is on your bed-"

"I'll go get my mask _with George_." His tone was sharper, though it didn't affect Tubbo as much. Even if Dream was sweet to children, especially with Tubbo, George silently begged for him to just go. "You go get your shoes."

There was a small pause before he skipped to go to the front door and get his shoes. Dream didn't made a move to drag George and just stares back at the brunette, urging to come with. George wanted to take his sweet time in removing his apron and cleaning up the kitchen counter, but Dream's loud steps made it clear for him. As soon as he was near the door, his arm was yanked in, throwing him onto the mattress while Dream closed the doors.

"It's been a while since I've given you this, so it's just a smaller dose!" The blonde then takes a vile of some purple potion out. George quietly hissed at the sight of that rancid potion. Every time he'd be gone for a long period of time, the bastard would brew up this shit. "Do you want to drink it or do I have to force it?"

"Dream-" To be honest, George would bare a kiss from the bastard other than drinking the potion willingly. The taste it has and leaves is bitter and salty as it would scape your throat like bile. Who the fuck would make a potion that can taste so horrible, yet make you woozy and high on a horrible nightmare. "I promise I won't do anything- I won't escape! I don't even have a key or-"

Dream clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if he was disappointed. "Forcefully it is again."

The bottle was shoved into his mouth as he pinched his nose. George tried to claw on Dream's arm, but he needed to breathe–

"I know you don't like the taste, but it's not much of like last time. In fact, I think you'll be okay to cook dinner after a few hours!"

George glared daggers one last time before he slipped and drowned in trying to spit out the damn potion. The last thing he thought is how he hated how he smiled so fucking calm like he isn't drowning George in shit.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda short ngl


	3. Stay strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George experiences crisis

It starts out innocently enough. If George even contemplates about it, this started a few weeks before Tubbo even came here. Then again, nothing could be innocent as much as how _innocent_ Dream could be. 

George hated a lot of things after the blonde had dragged him here. They're in a forest, which he gets anxious from how lonely and not so lonely they are here. And even if the house _does_ look almost like his previous one, though the place was oddly strange with more rooms, mostly locked and bizarre creaks every afternoon or late at night. Still, the one that made the brunette eager to escape soon was how it was built with thick walls; thicker than his own body. And when Tubbo came into the picture, he had a good hint as to why it was like that.

With nothing to do, since he's locked inside, almost forgetting what the sun looked if he didn't count how Dream decorated with this disgusting shade of.. peach was it? He turned to what he has in order to cope, reading.  
He liked reading a lot back then, when a friend– Bad would often stay in the library, bringing George with him whenever he was seen as free. And when he had read and examined every word on the shelves of books he has, he turned to cooking as another hobby.   
Cooking was never his forté, and even after when he almost burned the kitchen. Which was awful since the walls were too thick, it'll kill him from the smoke and flames before he had a shred of a chance to escape. Dream primarily kept an eye on him when the brunette asked to try again. The brunette hated asking anything from the damn bastard, but he's willing if it takes his mind off of his current situation. But despite being inside a literal forest and Dream being a hunter as a hobby, George was provided limited ingredients for whatever he manages to create.

At least after a month on working on his skills, he was more or less given praises and compliments from the bastard; even when those dishes he ate were almost from the trash. And was now in charge of cooking dinner for the _whole_ family. It’s more than a little girly, he knows— Dream had been sure to point that out repeatedly, right up until George threatened to stop cooking for him– but he gets threatened back with lack of air or food, so he shuts up.  
He’s not wearing an apron though. No matter how many times Dream suggests it, and the flush of heat he feels whenever Dream bandies the word ‘wife’ at him is just from the cooktop, he’s sure.

Though the word ‘ _wife_ ’ has started cropping up with the harassments— or again, maybe it had already and George just hadn’t noticed.

It was midnight, yet the two adults were in no way near sleeping. Dream throws his larger body onto him, pinning the poor boy onto the mattress, almost banging his head to the wall. His wrist was held and George was only hurting himself by yanking. The blonde didn't let him move, even when he scraped at his face and chest. It was like slamming against a wall or yanking against cold handcuffs.

“GET OFF ME!”

George screams angrily, panic rising when hands started to trail down his chest. It made him cry as his touch was nothing but sweet, tugging lightly on his shirt then moved onto his sides and start pulling at George's thighs. Cold fingers dig into the waist of his jeans and yank them down.  
  
"Just relax, " Dream grins down adoring the soft skin.

George snarls but he can’t move underneath him, he can’t get away— and Tubbo was _just_ in the other room. And when his throat gone hoarse, there was no one to help him.

The damn bastard strips him from the waist down and then pries his legs apart. George spits curses, thrashing as best as he can, trying to stay angry despite the well know fear growing inside him. Dream remains passive and arranges himself between his thighs. He wasn't fazed by his rebellion, plainly admiring how the smaller wasted his breath with them. If he wasn't paying attention, he'd miss how he coed to cry louder. There was no noise to be heard from outside, though, George would be damned if he didn't at least show how he's against from the slightest touch given. No matter how this was ironically gentle and lulling him to relax.  
  
He feels the first touch against his bare body, a hard pointed tip pressing in and George tries to buck him off. He yanks and jerks around but all he’s doing is hurting himself. The brunette accidentally slams his head against the hard wall and his vision swims.  
  
George was glad when he blacks out, knowing he won't be conscious of what's about to happen.

Waking up George realizes first thing that he’s freezing cold. Shivering he sits up in the dimly lit room; _their_ empty room. The single wide window was shut from the outside, preventing the telltale of time. Though, sunlight was seeping through them, so it must have been early in the morning. Not to mention how he's currently carrying a throbbing headache and exhausted muscles.

This wasn't the first time this has happened, however, it was the first when Tubbo has came here. George thought Dream wouldn't, only sticking with damn touches from concern for being caught by the child. He thought he would be a bit more scared. Well, I guess he just cant keep a week without doing so.

The brunette whimpered as he shifted from the mattress. His chest cramps tight when his thighs whined from pain. George clung on the bed frame as most of his muscles grew sore.

He dragged himself to a closet, pulling out his bigger pairs of sweaters and pyjamas. He can't wear tighter clothes from how a small nudge sends spasms of pains.

George cried, as his mind shifted to what should he make for breakfast. He doesn't want to remind himself at how his distress makes him twitch slightly in pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at the middle of the night venting


	4. Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George is slowly slipping after all this time.

Tubbo was more observant than anything. He picks out small information and works with them. Today wasn't as different.

"George?" The small child didn't run up and clung to his leg, but decided to stand by him as he cooked some eggs. "Are you okay?"

George choked and tried to sound confused. The green bastard was _just_ there by the dining table, sitting so casually like he didn't do any _damn thing_. Having a face that you'd want to punch didn't help his composure. Not that there was anything wrong with his appearance, but just because it was his, and Dream's a total _dick_.

"I am? Of course I'm okay."

"You're struggling to stand up— and you're red. I just don't want you to get sick again."

"I'm fine, " George could hear Dream chuckle. It frightened him as he couldn't tell if it was a bad thing or not. The anxiety whether his answers could lead to this child's harm. Tubbo is his responsibility now. And this just eats him up. "I was just cold last night, don't worry. I'll be okay soon enough."

The chuckle became a laugh. "George moves so much in his sleep, I thought he would break the wall or something."

**He could break his neck right now.**

Moves so much that George could break the wall? He'll be fucking glad if he could. If he could only, then there's a shred of hope escaping soon enough. If he could only-

Tubbo giggled along, though after shooting an uneasy glance at him. If he knows too much, who knows what would Dream do. There's only a matter of time until they could evade these questions and this would likely tick Dream in the future.

_Dream_

It's always about him. It's always about whether or not something could please him. His mind has to have this awareness of the guy.  
George has no other option to think about it. Dream does control his life now. Even if he wants to think otherwise.  
  


Sometimes, the brunette would just sob for hours. Dream never hurt him as much as he wished he would. In that way, he can spite the blonde even more. However, almost every sweet aspect he's been giving him just makes it harder. Especially when George was the only one who's reacting negatively— shouting, tensing up and resisting with fear engulfed in every touch of the guy's hands.

No.—

The pain of losing everything _would never_ truly fade. His friends, his job, whatever he held dear, all gone thanks to the damn monster who would hold George close at night. Who would force kisses on him without a care. Who would bite him so hard, sometimes would draw blood. Dream had once whispered how others would now know who he belongs to, but that just tore right through him. It has been a year or so since he saw someone else. Has it been a year though? Was it longer than that?

Today was one of those days where George couldn't stop crying.  
Tubbo was out in the garden, tending to his plants and playing with the grass. It wasn't difficult to shrug the adventurous child away for a moment.  
He didn't know Dream would hang around him that day. George was sure he'd use the time to play with the child who was outside. If he did know, the brunette would have held back the already overflowing tears then break when he was gone.

Dream stood there with a smile painted on his face. It matched the mask that hung on his hip in some creepy manner. George tries to stifle his cries, but that was easier said than done; and by the time he sat beside him, he had only been able to reduce it into whimpers.

The ever-loving bastard tilted George's chin up, staring down into his eyes with this intensity. He almost didn't notice the fact that he licked the tear tracts on his face—slowly, carefully as though not to waste anything. _He was fucking licking his face—_ _**And he wasn't doing anything about it.**_

Eventually, Dream spoke, breaking the thick silence.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking about how much I hate you." George snapped that soon followed by fear. He expected some kind of irritation, he always did. Even though it always followed a laugh. He never did punish George for these small words— not when Tubbo was near of course, though George would be too scared to do that. Maybe it was even an encouragement to do so.

"You were thinking about me?" Dream replied enthusiastically.

"More like _**crying**_ about you."

"You know, " He began to caress George's cheek. All he could do is clench onto his arm, trying to get his touch away from his face, but Dream had always been the stronger one. "All this anger, hatred and sadness, they're all strong emotions. Similar to love and glee. So full of passion." That stupid smile. "I don't think you _realise_ how thin the line between _love_ and _hate_ truly is."

"And I don't think you _realise_ how absurd you sound right now." George hissed. "Like a delusional clown."  
  
The smile he gave, filled with so much warmth, it physically made him ill. Especially when he deliberately ignored the insult. His pleasant smile turning to a horrifyingly more genuine grin; all lopsided as if he wasn’t a complete monstrosity underneath his human form.  
Especially when Dream tugged him closer, wrapping an arm just around his hip.

"George, you think about me all day. You're so overwhelmed with your emotions that the mere thought of me makes you burst into _this_ *"

The brunette took this insult at heart, straightening his posture and curling his lips thin. Dream just wheezes at him.

"One day, your feelings will change. In order to survive in an environment like this, you have to adapt. And _my George_ is a survivor."

The brunette scoffed. "Are you suggesting that I'll love _you_ of all people _—_ to keep myself sane?" 

This is bullshit. After everything? The pain, the struggle and the damn isolation? He'll just _magically_ fall in love with Dream like something out of his dark and twisted fantasies. Sure.  
This is plain and just utter bullshit.

_"Of course I am, "_

George can't be thinking about this right now.

_"You're already inching closer than you think, baby. You just need a little nudge to see it."_

Dream leaned down, brushing his lips onto George's. Hot breath licked his lips until the gap closed. It didn't push, nor hurt mainly. It was soft; not much force that usually came with this sort of thing.  
He literally cannot feel anything that isn't the parts of him pressed onto Dream. He can’t think, can’t get any air— Felt like the whole world contained in the press of their lips.  
**Like something you'd give to your special one.**

George didn't dare to move, afraid of the hands around him. The threat that would push him forward and make this another addition to the horrible experiences. Except, there wasn't any looming physical threat.  
Dream's hands weren't around his waist, neck or anywhere like earlier. Just stayed by his cheek, rubbing on the edge of his lips, prying it open like he was _asking_.

The kiss deepened, then broken in an instant as George sucked in a breath. A small lick on his lips, as a promise for _something_ then Dream continued to back away a bit. That smile- that smirk- that awful grin never left him.

George balled his fists on his lap.

"I'll see you later, Georgie." He stood up, walking out of the door. Though, Dream leaned against the door frame, staring back at the startled brunette. "I love you. I _really_ do love you."

Dream was gone; not staying long to wait for an answer.

"I hate you so much-" George cried. He cried more than when Dream had found him. He wanted to scream, but his voice has gone hoarse. He's just tired now. "I hate you so much, that it's all spilling out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaahh- This was hard to write.  
> Hope you guys enjoy the descent tho! And for a bit of context, Chapter 6 Ghost in Family hasn't happened yet here. The next chapter is the one tied to the chapter 6 work.


	5. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George is tired. He's just tired.  
> And Tubbo got scared of something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a convenient chapter and kinda became some kind of vent

George stares at the dress given to him. _A dress_ he just wore willingly.

The fabric was still as soft and hard to leave cresses on. The feel of it flowing behind him, the slight tightness around the chest area. It's even his favourite colour, all plain and simple. Though it was more 'showy' and he didn't like how his skin froze in the breeze.  
It's just a dress. Yet it gave him an awful feeling.  
In spite of that, the look on Tubbo _–just forget about Dream–_ ; that bright smile with flickers of joy. _–just ignore the same smile Dream gave–_  
It was nauseating, yet free.

It was high noon, just after they were caught sword fighting. He was caught _outside_ with Tubbo and without Dream's permission nor supervision. The blonde didn't look that mad, with how he grinned with a soft look. However, George can never be too sure with him. Not now. He's just glad he doesn't look like he'd be receiving a punishment. George could always say that Tubbo was curious about sword fighting and just decided to teach him on the whim.

It isn't lying when he leaves out some information.

Though, when did he start caring if he lied?

"Good evening, hun.”

George squeaks as arms wrapped around him and decided to go limp from behind. The greetings wasn't even said in a surprised tone, just calm. It shouldn't have made him jump, but coming from _Dream_ , he'll always be on edge.

"I'll go get dinner ready— It would be ready in a minute."

The brunette shoved himself forward, trying to get out of his grasp that only held him tighter. He should have seen how time flew by so fast. And staring at the dress? What would be running in the damn bastard's mind now? George didn't want what Dream had said to him stick. It won't work with him. He's better than this.

"No, it's fine. Don't move."

Dream buried his face where his neck met George's shoulders. He can feel the mask poking him as it was still tied by the side of his face. Dream is often out now. Mostly outside, doing whatever, leaving George to watch over Tubbo. It's not like he can just escape with him. Even when Tubbo has the key to the backyard- He wasn't confident he could land safely, especially with those barbed wires. He also didn't know where to go. He just didn't know the forest.  
It's impossible to escape. It's impossible- _It's just impossible._

"I also bought some cake and stew from town."

"Cake!" Tubbo popped his head in their room at the mere mention of sweets, then ran towards the two. "Is it from a bakery?"

"Freshly done with berries _all_ over!"

Tubbo grinned brighter.

"You have to eat the stew first." Dream added sternly, fortunately loosening his hold.

Tubbo's smile dropped to a frown. The child even pulled out his tongue. "But- stew tastes like nothing and slime!"

George had to laugh at the small remark. He remembers the first time he made stew back when he was a hunter. Sapnap whined just like Tubbo does. Hopefully, his own cooked stew doesn't taste like that. He can't be positively sure since he's biased.

"Then more cake for me then." The brunette finally escaped Dream's clutch then proceed to run to the kitchen despite not knowing where the treat was. He just has to get away. And Tubbo was always the best way out. He loves this kid.

~

Night. Another night.

" _Georgie,_ " Dream purred in his ear, arm draped over George's hip. The brunette was between the wall and Dream. He didn't seem to breathe well with how close he is to both.

Could George cook something other than eggs tomorrow?

Deep-rough little hums. Dream decided to press on his nape, puffs of small whiffs met his skin. It was easy enough to ignore the noises, but the feeling of the warm air–

Maybe he could make omelettes with meat inside. And add some tomato sauce. Tomato sauce mixed with mayo? Sounds lovely.

Dream's hand was by his abdomen, _unfortunately_ underneath his shirt. Though, he wasn't at all touchy like he was when he did it. Just small gentle rubs- caressed onto his skin. It should be distracting on how it was lulling him to sleep. George was indifferent to the touch. He's sleepy but didn't have an effect.

TUBBO! He hasn't taken a liking to tomatoes. He did enjoy the spaghetti George prepared once. If he didn't like it, he could whip up the leftover cake and make something out of it.

"Pay attention, please." It was more of a faded whimper. George didn't know if it was because of him spacing out or intentional from the blonde. He just fucking hates how he can feel him speak.

"I'm tired, shut up." Hopefully, Dream would grant this one request. He was tired. It was so late. It didn't even process how long he's been up.

"Georgie, you don't even have to do anything." And it was probably a no.

"No. Dream, not now."

" _Not now,_ " The blonde's hair brushed against him, with him now buried behind his back. "That's a good thing."

What did he just say? Not now. Not now- It's so obviously a _not ever_. Dream could only hope. Dream could just think of this as false hope. George would never–

He didn't like his thoughts. Though, they were the ones who picked up on some high murmur –damn these stupid walls but well done for his senses. George was sure it wasn't from Dream; he can practically feel his breath on him, so it wouldn't make sense when it didn't match.

"I need to go check on Tubbo."

"What? He's probably asleep."

"I heard him." George is too tired to deal with him. "Stay put, I'll be a second."

He didn't care when Dream grumbled that was some sort of growl if he thought about it. He would have if the blonde decided to hug him tighter.

"You _shouldn't_ even hear _anything_ , idiot." And for some reason Dream complied.  
  
  


"Tubbo?"

He peeked through the small door frame. If George could hear him through how thick the walls were, Tubbo–  
Tears. The child was crying.

He didn't waste a second to come up to the shaking child, pulling him into a hug. Tubbo welcomed this by clinging light on his shirt.

"George-" He could feel Tubbo calm then melt into his hug.

"What happened? Is something wrong?" What do he do exactly? For some reason, the memory of Dream caressing him came. He just impulsively did the same to Tubbo's back, while trying to soothe him by roaming through the child's hair. "I-It's ok, I'm here."

"It's- I heard some something outside."

"Do you want to stay with me while you get some rest?"

Tubbo nodded as quick as possible.

George didn't want to leave him in his room a while longer. With that information, mobs or just a mob might be wandering around. He never trusted Dream's skills in stopping these monsters from getting to the house, but he trusts his strength if anything comes to worse.

"You'll be fine, Tubs, " He murmurs. "I'll keep you safe."

It was always warm with him near. Just giving him a lulling feeling of comfort and reassurance. He can't describe it well, but it has a sort of familiarity he never once had. It was warm, and he would not want it taken away.

"Thanks, dad-"

He froze.

Dad? He accepts being a brother to Tubbo, but that kind already? A dad? If that's what he needs right now, he'll provide. This will not get into his head.

George smiles.  
  
  


ᴷⁿᵒᶜᵏ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ  
  


_What was that?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to try and speedrun this and finish more chapters since I have tests on March.
> 
> Anyways, if people are confused about what's going on, you can always ask. Love talking to you guys! Thanks for the support<3


	6. Your smart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A big step towards freedom

Tubbo clung all night onto Dream's shirt and didn't dare try to move from George's grip. He was sweating but was overly calm now. It was a peaceful night, finally.

Morning came and woke them up in the middle of it. Dream was already awake- knowing him. The brightest smile from the green bastard was met as soon as George opened his eyes. He wished he could have closed them and went back to sleep, however, Tubbo was already awake. Time to start another day.

Afternoon wasn't all that eventful. As like almost every day. The brunette just needs to take care of food and cleaning, now with the added taking care of another human being. Still, it was too repetitive.

Every day, he can feel as if time never moved. Times were all mixed, he could never remember what he was eating or cooking. Everything was just the same. The same tasks at the same time. Even if George tries and keep his mentality intact because of this, he still can't perceive anything he was doing as significant anymore.

He could just do everything on repeat and not have his own mind interfere.

It's draining.  
  


"George?"

Said brunette snapped out of his thoughts– his task- _Oh fucking shit,_ the eggs were burning!

George lifted the pan out of the stove, carelessly placing it on the counter. Well, burned eggs weren't that bad. They can add more salt and pepper, maybe some chunks of tomatoes then it would be fine again. Plus, Dream wouldn't even notice nor complain if he doesn't want to go without dinner. The guy was like a lovestruck puppy whenever he does something remotely for him.

"Uh- Yeah Tubbo?" The child has this amused look, giggling underneath his breath, knowing what he has done. At least the kid saved them from a horrible dinner. It's nice having the kid around more often. He guesses Tubbo is just wanting more privacy where you can't even have one and George will respect that. "You want something?"

"Oh, right! Some books mentioned other language stuff. Is there a language for deaf- blind or something people?"

"You mean a way of communication? Yeah." George scrapped the eggs out of the pan and to a plate. The rest of the black gunk was put into another for any stray animals.

Tubbo then came up to him, helping with setting the plates. "Is there something about knocking?"

"There are tap codes, some whistles signals. Though, I don't think we have books about those."

" _There are whistle languages?_ "

George gave a small chuckle when the small child's eyes grew wide. He even pursed his lips, trying to whistle. Small blabbers of sound were made, but not even something considered as a whistle. The child's cheeks reddened.

"Oh right, I don't think I can whistle." The child turned to the older man, sticking out his tongue.

Chuckles gave in into laughter, smile wide, making his cheeks hurt.

Damn it, Tubbo was just the light of day.

Then the knocks happened.

They were faint, but it was something he can swipe away. Maybe they were rats or that small cat found a way into their roof or underneath their floorboards. Tubbo was terrified of the idea of a cat getting stuck, but if it got there, there's always gonna be a way out. George is just happy when it died down for a few days.

Just a few days, he hears them again.

Maybe he's heard them earlier. George doesn't know. He's been filtering a lot of events and scenes, he's been meshing memories all together. Now with the new change from Tubbo, he reckons his filter has been giving less of an effect.

It's only been a day or two as he notices the small pattern. It was always prominent in the afternoon at dusk before the sun sets. He notes how this somewhat improves Tubbo's mood where he'll usually slump around in the morning. This has perhaps a tie to the question on his knocking language question.

A way to get rid of his fear? He's seen Tubbo flinch at the dark and the way his senses heightens. The kid was creatively curious if this was what's happening.

And maybe it wasn't.

_Dream was home late in the afternoon, soaking through sweat. Didn't make him question since he's always in a cloak and dressed in mostly leather. Ah wait, he was drenched more than ordinary. The guy was fucking dunked into a lake or something._

_George almost laughs, but was shut down by this scowl. Tubbo didn't even try and approach Dream to make him feel better._

The damn bastard didn't speak that day. It unnerved George. Just like the rest of the days, he did the same.

–And even more right now.

Tubbo was tucked in his bed and George was enjoying his time in the empty bed, rolling around. It was a chilly dark twilight. With the cool breeze plus the soft mattress that's basically his for the few hours, he couldn't feel sleep over his eyelids. This was a damn great evening! He just has to keep a sharp ear out for Dream. Now that George has his hands full with the kid, Dream lets himself stay out late more than once. It's refreshing now not having to see his face every day.

Everything was soft and he can just stretch around without conditions or harassment. A quick enjoyment by his own company. All on his own. Not with the warm touch that comes with _his_ touch. From all the suffering, it was still- at least- slightly nice to have sweet cuddles whenever this brunette would drift to sleep. It was nice. Dream wasn't, but the actions were. That's the only thing he'll admit

The doorknob turns.

The small brunette was shortly back to his usual position, facing the wall and curled up to himself. If he's _lucky_ , Dream would go directly to rest and he'd get some sweet sleep. 

" _George._ "

Shiver runs up his spine as Dream spoke with more vigour, more irritated than just plain deep. Was he pissed at something? Is that why he's late now? Thoughts swirled around, as he regulated his breathing into a calmer pace. He can't help but overthink–   
George never missed that tone he used.

"You think you're _so smart_ , aren't you?"

George felt the mattress quake slightly as Dream climbed right next to him. It was apparent how he didn't care that George was clearly asleep. Climbing over him, the brunette could hear the rigid breaths. He didn't dare try to open his eyes, even just a tiny bit and peak. Was he going to-

**He couldn't breathe.**

_"You think you're so fucking smart, huh?"_

George choked as rough hands pressed harder down his throat. Fuck- His windpipe could be crushed just because of this! The brunette gasped, trying to force air in- Sending the blonde a fucking glare, the other snarled back.

Clawing- Tugging- Basically trying to yank Dream's arms away. No use and only made this a motivation to squeeze harder.

"Playing me like this? _You_ think you could have outsmarted _me?_ "

It was only seconds- He needs power or some leverage! He's running out of time.

"I _saw_ the damn bugs- those little _pets_ Tubbo has!" George never saw how Dream's face screamed at him; couldn't decide on either blowing up or shouting to calm himself. "And the fucking tracks _outside_? How long have you _known_ how to escape- the _damn route_ to the village, you fucking bitch!"

George leaned as far back as he could, easing up the blonde's hold for a second. And as he gasped for the buts of air, George focused all his strength to his fists as he slammed them to Dream's head. Dream crashed against the metal bits of the window soil, drawing blood at the side of his face, contorting in pain.

"FUCK-"

George kicked Dream off of him, barely making him fall off the mattress. He scattered out of the bed, dashing to the door. Dream just grabbed him by the ankle, dragging him farther from the door.

"You _thought_ I'll lower my guard and trust you just because you weren't spitting _shit_ out of your _god damned mouth?_ " Dream hissed, kicking the smaller's gut- It took a miracle to get George to pipe the agony down.

The blonde yanked him up by his collar. George didn't hesitate to jerk his hands around. His mind never left the fact that he needed _something_. He didn't care whatever he just said earlier. None of it was important right now. Dream mentioned Tubbo and-

"George, I love the fact you've been so senselessly stupid!" Dream smashed his head onto George, throwing him to the side then rushing out of the door.

"Good night, princess." He snarled, locking the smaller inside. "I think I gave you too much freedom."  
  


George was lucky, Dream was too angry to notice it.

Flailing around his arms? Wouldn't you think Dream would be so careful from what he had declared. Then again, he didn't keep most of his promises, nor did he ever do well while furious. 

He stumbled his way to the door, taking the decently sized pin- or is this some kind of very small screwdriver. Whatever this thing Dream made to fix up his damn mask. 

Now, he just needs to get to the living room and get the sword underneath the couch.

Yeah, George was smart. He chuckled nervously to himself as he picked the lock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rushed and I think it's ok. Maybe not the pacing.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, I really enjoy writing these. Plus reading the comments with theories-   
> Love u guys  
> Thanks for enjoying! ^-^


End file.
